“You’re the boss.” The driver coaxed the horse into a brisk canter and they picked up speed. Several people shouted abuse as they were forced to duck out of the way. The scenery whipped past outside and Leopold strained his eyes for a glimpse of Melissa Gordon. He gritted his teeth as the clatter of the horse’s hooves reinvigorated the pain in his skull.
“How the hell are we going to find her in this crowd?” Mary asked.
“The park’s full of tourists and joggers,” said Leopold, raising his voice above the cacophony. “Use your eyes, like I told you. Everyone is wearing sweat pants or shorts, maybe a baseball cap if they’re feeling dressy – it should be easy enough to spot a woman in two-thousand-dollar Chanel and four-inch heels.” He pointed outside. “Look, over there.”
Ahead, the path veered off to the right. Most of the pedestrians were heading in the opposite direction, toward what looked like a farmers’ market. A brass band was set up in the middle of the lawn, playing some kind of Dixieland melody that Leopold couldn’t quite make out over the noise of the horseshoes on the asphalt.
“Turn right here,” said Leopold, addressing the driver. “And don’t slow down.” He felt the carriage tip to the left as they swerved.
“We’re going the wrong way,” said Mary. “She’ll hide in the crowd.”
“This woman is on the run – instinct is taking over. Trust me, she’ll aim for the most secluded route out of here. And that’s where I’m taking us.” He felt the buggy hit a pothole and nearly slammed his head into the ceiling.
“I hope you’re right. By the time I find a cell phone and get a unit over here…” She paused mid-sentence. “Wait a minute, what’s that?”
Leopold squinted through the gap in the carriage, looking past the driver out front. Ahead, a figure was speed walking in bare feet, a pair of high heels clutched in one hand. A woman, dressed in expensive clothes. She turned her head as they drew closer.“That’s her!” Mary shouted. She instinctively reached for her hip. “Dammit.”
“We can do this without resorting to firearms,” said Leopold.
“Says the man with the shattered leg.”
“Your legs look pretty good to me.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
He rolled his eyes. “You got this or not?”
“Relax,” said Mary. “The bitch is mine. Just get me close enough.” She assumed a crouching position near the doorway and knocked on the wood. “Keep it steady.”
“Doing the best I can,” the driver shouted back. “Just don’t mess up my cart.”
Ahead, Melissa started to run. Her pace was surprisingly quick given her bare feet.
“Dammit, she’s seen us.” Mary grabbed hold of the door frame and tensed. “Can’t this thing go any faster?”
The driver yelled something Leopold couldn’t make out and he felt the buggy lurch as their speed increased.
“That’s it. Keep her steady.”
The noise of the horse’s hooves on the path intensified. They drew closer. Mary was almost hanging out of the carriage, a look of intense concentration on her face. They were almost level with their target.
“Now!” Mary leapt from the buggy as they pulled within a few feet, her arms spread wide open. She landed hard, knocking Melissa onto the ground. Leopold heard a shriek of pain and saw the two women tumble over a grassy bank and into a ditch. They disappeared from sight.
“Stop the cab,” he shouted. The driver obliged and Leopold almost fell out of his seat as the buggy screeched to a halt. His injured leg hit the wall of the compartment, sending more firecrackers off in his head.
“You all right?” Jerome asked, lifting his boss up under the arm.
“Yeah, I’ll live. You haven’t got any morphine on you, by any chance?”
“Over there.” Jerome ignored him, pointing toward a wooded area twenty feet away. “Feeling up to some exercise?”
Before Leopold could reply, Jerome grabbed ahold of him and clambered out of the carriage, setting off at a jog with his employer in tow. They reached the grass in just a few seconds – despite repeated pleas from Leopold to leave him behind – and Jerome let go.
“Jesus, you trying to cripple me permanently?” Leopold leaned against the bodyguard for support. “Can you see anything?”
A muffled grunt and a rustle of branches answered his question. A few feet ahead, Melissa Gordon stumbled backward out of a hedge and toppled onto her back. A split second later, Mary burst out of the shrubbery and landed on top, pinning her to the ground.
“Looks like she’s got it under control,” said Leopold. “Maybe we should just stay here.”
Jerome looked down at him. “And this has nothing to do with you not wanting to get your ass kicked?”
“Of course not. I just don’t want to interfere with police business, that’s all.”
Melissa grunted as Mary held her arms down, preventing her from rolling over.
“You have the right to remain silent,” said Mary, as her quarry squirmed and tried to spit in her face. “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, the court will appoint one for you.”
“I’ll kill you, you little bi –”
Mary slapped Melissa across the face with the back of her hand. “You have the right to shut the hell up,” she said, using her knees to keep Melissa from rolling away. “Any other dumbass thing you do say can be used against you as evidence. Now, do you understand your goddamn rights?”
Melissa snarled and tried to push Mary away, to little effect. She let out a scream of frustration.
“I’ll take that as a 'yes'.”
Leopold looked up at Jerome. “See, nothing to worry about.”
The NYPD forensic team didn’t take long to crack Melissa Gordon’s computer passwords. After less than an hour, they had scoured the contents of her home and remote hard drives – giving Mary enough evidence to agree a formal charge with the DA over the phone. They found incriminating emails, client records, phone calls, money transfers, bank accounts. More than enough to guarantee a speedy trial. James and Bobby were brought in after a brief trip to the emergency room, and all three had opted to keep their mouths shut during interrogation.
Not that it made any difference.
Leopold and Jerome waited in the viewing room, watching Mary interview Melissa. After some medical attention and enough painkillers to keep him from passing out, Leopold had opted to stick around. The Gordon family attorney was present, dressed in an immaculate suit and looking uncomfortable as hell. He advised his client to keep quiet. Leopold knew Mary wasn’t going to let that stand for much longer.
“Understand me, Mrs. Gordon. This doesn’t end well for you,” said Mary, her voice clear as a bell through the interrogation room speakers. “You scammed people out of millions of dollars. Important people. You killed two men – your husband and Joseph Biggs. You tried to kill three others, including me. We have enough to push for a federal case here and there’s only one deal on the table. If you play ball, the district attorney will recommend a custodial sentence. If not, it’s the death penalty. The DA has a lot of pull, so his word goes a long way.” She paused. “Do you really want to die, Melissa?”
The lawyer twitched. “Don’t answer that.” He looked straight at Mary. “Keep to the point, Detective.”
“Fine.” Mary leaned on the table with both hands. “I’ll make it real simple. Before he died, Teddy Gordon discovered a financial model that could predict market behavior with greater accuracy. He figured out a shit storm is heading our way and he thought it was important enough to risk losing everything to make sure people knew about it. We want you to give us the formula. Tell us where you hid the files.”